Chapter III: First Journey in Europe (3)

Friday.--I have been to-day at the British Museum, studying from the specimens of Plukenet, Catesby, Miller, etc., etc., the authority for old Linnæan species in Ilex, Prinos, Eupatorium, etc. It is slow and tedious work, and I shall not have time to do so much of it as I could wish. Brown told me to-day about Petalanthera. It is Cevallis, Lagasca, Hortus Matritensis, and very probably his species, even C. sinuata. It came from New Spain. You will see Lindley is all astray about the genus, and no one knows its affinities even, but Brown. Lagasca himself refers it to Boragineæ. It is true Loaseæ. I was this evening at Bentham’s, and found he had a specimen of C. sinuata from Hooker, collected by Brydges in Mexico, I think. I have asked Brown to give us some notes on the subject, a generic character, etc., that we may publish a little from his own pen. I am to spend a day with him next week, and I will try to get something out of him. He hinted to me some days ago that he knew something about Cyrilla, but I could not get it out of him. I’ll try again. He tells me he has a character to distinguish true Rhexia, which has escaped Don, De Candolle, etc. We must find it out. Bentham has given me his “Scrophulariæ Indicæ,” and the three last parts of his “Labiatæ;” I have bought the rest (£1 2s. 6d.), and last evening we looked over his North American specimens, and the notes in his copy. He gave me also, the other day, the only published part of the “Plantæ Hugelianæ” and a few other pamphlets. He is a liberal soul.

I have got so far behind in my botanical news that I despair of bringing up arrears, and must leave very much to tell you in propria persona, if we meet again. I fancy I have not very much new to learn on the Continent about microscopes and modes of working. I have seen much of all the best people here, last not least Valentine, who lives in the country, from whom I have derived much useful knowledge. He works to some account, which can’t be said of most here, who, though they have the best instruments in the world, don’t turn them to any important account. As to Sullivant, tell him to have great patience. I can get him a capital simple microscope by Ross for six guineas, but I want to get as useful a one for him cheaper, so I shall wait till I have been on the Continent, I think. My plan is to purchase at Paris for him, where the low powers are good as can be, and supply a lens or two here....

Chapmannia (!) exists in Bartram’s old collection here, which you saw at British Museum, and some other very lately published things.

I bought a copy of “Flora” for Bennett the other day, thinking it worth while to offer him something, as I was taking up much of his time. To-day he gave me a copy of the published part of the “Plantæ Javanicæ Rariores,” (£2 10s., plain, is the publishing price), an invaluable work, containing very many notes and observations on various genera, etc., both by Brown and himself, which it is quite necessary we should see. The notes I have made for the last few days are not now before me, so that I cannot now give you any remarks. There is no one thing of very considerable importance, but much small matter. By the way, let me say that Bennett thinks that Brown thinks Romanzovia to be hydrophyllaceous! Bentham would give something to know this, but I shall keep it to myself. I have made out the remainder of Pursh’s doubtful Arenarias and Stellarias front the Banks herbarium. The parcel of Solidagos, etc., sent to care of Mr. Putnam, I am glad to say, came to hand. It did not arrive until last week, however....

Monday evening, twelve o’clock.... As I sit down to tell you what I have been about to-day, my thoughts cross the wide wave that separates us, and brings me back to 30 MacDougal Street, and to the time when, returning from town, I used to present myself before you, give an account of my proceedings, tell you perhaps some news about that ill-fated expedition of which you were so sick of hearing; how it would certainly sail in a month, or something just as likely. When thinking of this long separation, I console myself with the idea that it is better than if I had gone there. In that case I should now have been your antipodes. Now there are only some four or five hours of shadow between us. And, sluggard as you call me at home, I am up in the morning two or three hours before you. Tell that to the girls for a wonder! I left my room this morning at eleven, walked to Portland Place, called on the American minister, who being unwell I was furnished by the secretary of legation with what I desired, namely, a passport. This I left, as the manner is, at the office of the French embassy, that his majesty Louis Philippe may have fitting notice of the honor that is to be done him, for the king of the French is, it seems, rather particular abut such matters, and it is a pity not to oblige him, especially as you can’t help yourself. This being done I went on to the Linnæan Society, and by working at the full stretch of my powers contrived to get through the Linnæan herbarium (skipping a few genera now and then) about six o’clock. Returned home pretty well fatigued, took some tea and toast, called upon Bentham, whom I found writing letters of introduction for me. I have them now before me. They are addressed to Seringe at Lyons; Requien, Avignon; Lady Bentham (B.’s mother) at Montpellier, with request to make me acquainted with Dunal and Delile; Moretti at Pavia; Visiani at Padua; Tomasini at Triest; Unger at Gratz; Endlicher at Vienna; Martius and Schultes at Munich; Reichenbach at Dresden; Pöppig at Leipsic. These, with what I have already from Hooker, Arnott, Greville, Boott, etc., with a few that I expect at Paris, leave me little to wish for in this respect. About ten o’clock went to Mrs. Stevenson’s party. It was not a very large one, and in no way especially remarkable. I found there of course the Bootts (three sizes, viz., Mrs. Boott the grandmother, Mrs. Boott the mother, and Miss Boott the daughter) and so of course I was upon good footing. Our minister lives in neat but by no means splendid style, quite enough so for a republican; and Mrs. S. is very lady-like and prepossessing in appearance. Mr. Stevenson did not make his appearance. Of course, I did not stay long.

TO JOHN TORREY.

Poor Hunneman died yesterday, after a short illness. I have spent much time evenings with Mr. Valentine, whom I like extremely. Excepting only Brown, he is the best microscopical observer in Great Britain. He cares little, however, for proper systematic botany, for which I am sorry. He has shown me some curious things.

I have learned from Brown the character he observed in our species of Rhexia, that is, the true genus Rhexia: the unilocularity of the anthers....

Tuesday evening, March 12.--After a hard day’s work I finished on Monday evening with the Linnæan herbarium, which I found more interesting than I expected and more satisfactory, as it is in really good state, carefully taken care of, etc. I had some very good notes to make. I assure you I feel much gratified to have studied this collection, which, with the Gronovian, enables us to start fair as to Linnæan species. Do you know that Acer saccharinum, Linn., is A. eriocarpum (spec. Kalm)! Look at Linnæus “Species Plantarum” (which you have not, unfortunately, though it is the most necessary of books; you will receive it at the same time as this letter or nearly) and you will find that the description is all drawn from Eriocarpum.

I took what time I could to-day for the Gronovian plants and a few of Plukenet’s, etc., but was unable to finish; will go to-morrow, for I shall work to the last moment.

I have been tempted to buy a collection of Hartweg’s[76] very fine Mexican plants, which being collected far in the interior of north Mexico are very North American, and quite necessary, I think, for us. They will reach you with the other parcels. Be careful about the little labels with the numbers stuck on. Bentham will publish them presently....

Professor Royle, as the agent of India people, I believe, offers me seeds from Himalaya Mountains, received, and still to be received, from the government collectors, in exchange for those of useful and interesting North American plants, which they are desirous of introducing into India. But as I can’t attend to it until another season, he kindly offers to send to you a portion of the seeds just received, and to ask you to distribute them in such way as will be most useful, and ask those you give them to (say Downing, Hogg, Dr. Wray, Dr. Boykin, etc., and some one in the valley of the Mississippi or Arkansas) to collect seeds of trees, etc. (you can suggest what would be most desirable), and send them to London, whence they will be sent in the mails overland to India. As I fear I shall not see Royle again I shall write him a note, telling him, as I promised, how to send to you.

I saw Dr. Sims’ herbarium, at King’s College. I want to look at it to certify a few early “Botanical Magazine” plants.

Brown came to the museum this morning with a copy of a curious late paper of Schleiden (which I had seen before) on the Development of the Embryo, with a parcel of his own notes on the same subject made in 1810, 1812, 1815, etc., which did not altogether correspond. Brown thinks much of Schleiden as an observer. He read me many of his old notes, and the subject took him to speak of his discoveries with regard to the embryos of Pinus. To explain to me as he went on he drew the diagram on the inclosed slip of paper, and pointed out to me how to observe in our species of Pinus. This will refresh my memory as to all he told me, so pray keep it safely. There is much very curious matter now afloat about the process of impregnation and the early development of embryo, which I am accumulating, as much as I can, for future use. Pray tell Dr. Perrine that the gardeners and botanists here insist by acclamation almost that there is no such thing as acclimation in the vegetable kingdom.

What a pickle the Linnæan Ascyrum is in! I wish I had room to tell you.

TO MRS. TORREY.

Tuesday morning, two o’clock A.M., March 14, 1839.

I have just finished packing up, being about to start for Boulogne in steamboat at nine o’clock this morning, and I must now hastily close my letters. This, or rather yesterday, has been a busy day with me. I started in the morning to have a look at a few more things of Pursh’s at Lambert’s, but he kept me longer than I liked. He found somewhere a small parcel of plants collected by Eschscholz in Kotzebne’s voyage, who sent them to Lambert. Lambert gave me all the North American ones, few to be sure, but interesting. From Lambert’s I returned by way of the Horticultural Society, to bid good-by to Lindley and Bentham, but the latter insists upon coming up in the morning to my lodgings to see me off. I have made a fortunate acquisition for him. He told me he saw, a few days ago, at an auction some copies of Richard’s fine work on the Coniferæ, but an engagement at the time prevented him from staying to buy a copy of the work for himself, which he imagined would be sold cheap. Mr. Putnam found out who bought up these copies, and obtained one at nearly the price at which they were sold. I shall have the pleasure of presenting it to Bentham this morning when he calls. I went to the British Museum, worked hard until four o’clock; but was not able quite to finish, so I left my copy of Gronovius, in which I was making notes, with Mr. Bennett to keep for me until my return in the autumn, and took leave of Brown and Bennett. Went to Dr. Boott’s; saw Mrs. and Miss Boott, who insisted upon giving me a note of introduction to a friend of theirs in Florence; went to the City, dined with Putnam, down to Well-close Square, took my tea, and bid good-by to Ward and family, and Mr. Quekett....

TO THE MISSES TORREY.

PARIS, March 18, 1839, Monday evening.

I am now at the Hotel de l’Empereur Joseph II., Rue Tournon, près du Palais du Luxembourg. Here I have been established for about half an hour, and my first business shall be to fill this sheet for you. I suppose I must begin at the beginning and tell you how I came here. Voilà. I left London at nine o’clock in the morning of the 14th inst. (Thursday), stopping on my way to the steamboat which was to take me to Boulogne, to leave a parcel of letters at Mr. Putnam’s office, to be forwarded to dear friends at home. It was a nasty, rainy morning; and our boat was, as indeed I expected, not very comfortable. The cabin was well enough, but much too small for the accommodation of some fifty or sixty persons, and there was no covering to the deck, nor any deck-cabin, except two dirty little places for the poorer passengers, who were not allowed the use of ours; so we had our choice the whole day between the soaking in the rain upon the deck and the close atmosphere of the crowded cabin. Of course I was vibrating between the two dilemmas the whole day, but took as much pains as I could to keep dry. The only thing I saw worthy of notice as we went down the Thames was Greenwich Hospital, of which I will perhaps send a print. I should add also chalk cliffs, for I never before saw rocks and hills of chalk. In the afternoon, as we had fairly got into the Channel, a thick fog came on. The captain lost his way and seemed in fear that he should run the boat upon the Sands, so he dropped anchor about five in the afternoon. We were to have arrived at Boulogne at nine that evening. But as I saw there was no great chance of our moving for some time, I set about making amends for my loss of sleep the previous night. I took possession of two thirds of a hard sofa, and, wrapped in my cloak, was soon in a comfortable doze. I awoke late in the evening; and such a sight as there was before me! It seems that there were no accommodations for sleeping on board, or next to none, and the passengers, men, women, and children, were indiscriminately but thickly strewn over the sofas, chairs, and even over the whole floor, with portmanteaus, great-coats, and whatever they could find for pillows, attempting to secure such rest as they could,--some sixty persons or more crowded into a space not larger than the cabin of one of our ferry-boats....

But I was too drowsy to mind it much, and soon fell asleep again, but awoke in the morning with swollen eyes and complaining bones. The boat was moving again, and it was raining as hard as ever. The distant coast of France soon came in view, and at half past ten we were landed at Boulogne. We were escorted to the custom-house; what baggage we had brought in our hands was closely examined by the officers, an ill-looking, vagabond set; our passports were taken from us and provisional ones given, which permitted us to go on to Paris, and for which we each had to pay two francs; we were then allowed to go to a hotel and get our breakfast, a privilege which most of us were not slow to avail ourselves of. I made a hearty meal of cold roast beef, café au lait, excellent bread, and delicious butter. The two last I have found ever since I have been in France. I gave my keys to the commissionaire of the hotel to get my luggage through the custom-house, and, my place being taken in the diligence for Paris at two o’clock, having nothing else to do, I went to the custom-house to see the examination of the luggage. Lazy custom-house officers and gendarmes were lounging about, while heavy carts loaded with baggage were drawn up from the boat by women!--and this while it was raining hard, and the poor creatures were without hats or bonnets, and had only a handkerchief or a bit of cloth tied over their heads. So much for this self-styled most refined and polite nation! I noticed the poor things when their task was done and they were waiting to convey the trunks, etc., from the custom-house to the various hotels. Some were chatting in groups, apparently quite content with their lot; a few were sleeping, and many, with the characteristic industry of their sex, produced their knitting-work from their pockets and were busily employed at a more appropriate and feminine employment. I was amused at the strictness with which three exceedingly unpleasant-looking fellows searched all our baggage, that of the ladies not less than that of the men. Little parcels were opened, dirty linen was overhauled and most minutely inspected; the whole scene would have made a fit subject for the pencil of Hogarth. My traveling-bag was examined from top to bottom, and I began to fear that my trunk, which I had packed with care, would be sadly deranged, but they contented themselves with cutting open a packet of seeds I was taking from the Horticultural Society to De Candolle, and with seizing as a great prize my rather formidable parcel of letters of introduction. This was near causing me to be detained until the next diligence; but the commissionaire succeeded in getting them sent up to the inspector in another part of the town, upon whom we called, when after due explanation had been made, and one or two of the letters read, they were formally delivered back to me.

I can tell you what a French diligence is like. It is just like one of the railroad cars (about three apartments) of the Harlem railroad, for example, mounted on coach wheels; the horses are small, lean, shaggy, and ugly; some seven of these beasts are fastened, three abreast and one for a leader, with ropes to the said diligence; but how such beasts contrive to draw such a cumbrous vehicle, loaded with seventeen persons and their baggage, besides a driver and conductor, I don’t well understand, although the beasts are changed every five or six miles; but somehow we got over the ground pretty fast, and came to Paris, over one hundred and forty miles, in a little less than thirty hours, although it rained all the first day and part of the second, and the roads were extremely muddy.

We arrived just before nightfall at Montreuil, a fine old fortified French town situated on the summit of a hill and overlooking a broad valley, which in summer must be quite beautiful; here we dined, and were charged four francs each for dinner, besides sous to the garçon. I slept pretty well in the night, during which we passed Abbéville, where there is said to be a fine church. We breakfasted at the queer old town of Beauvais, where there is a fine cathedral, of which I had a pretty good view. My breakfast (déjeuner à la fourchette, which is the next thing to a dinner) cost three and a half francs, for on this route you meet with very English charges. I wished to say something about the country, but have not room. Suffice it to say that we passed through the town of St. Denis late in the afternoon, where I did not even get a glimpse of the very ancient cathedral, and arrived at Paris just before nightfall. After dinner, in company with a fellow-passenger, a young Englishman, I gratified a long-felt curiosity by strolling through the Palais Royal and some of the principal streets of Paris. On Sunday I attended church in the morning (after a vain attempt to find the American Chapel) at the Rev. Mr. Sayer’s English Episcopal Chapel, where I heard a good sermon; and in the evening at the Methodist Chapel, where the Rev. Mr. Toase preached a truly excellent discourse from Jeremiah viii. 13. All the shops were open just as on any other day, and the gardens and parks were all crowded. This morning I went down to the Jardin des Plantes, stopping by the way to see the ancient church of Notre-Dame, where I heard a portion of the Catholic service chanted.... At last, after looking at many other buildings and objects of curiosity, about which I will tell you more presently, I reached the garden, found Decaisne, who could speak no English, and I almost no French; so he took me to Adrien de Jussieu, who makes out to speak very tolerable English, and to understand me pretty well. I left soon to call on Mr. Webb,[77] who is an Englishman, for whom I had a letter from Hooker; thence after looking in vain for “appartements garnis “ in Rue de l’Odéon, Place de l’Odéon, etc., I secured my lodgings here, where I shall be obliged to hear nothing but French, and where I hope I may catch some of the language, and after dining at the ordinary at the Hôtel de Lille, where English is spoken, I transferred myself to my present quarters. But my sheet is full. I will give you another very soon. Till then, mes chères petites sœurs, adieu.

Wednesday evening, March 20.--I must continue my letter to you on a large sheet of thin French paper, else I shall have a larger bill of postage to pay than will be altogether convenient when I send to Havre. I did not write last evening; I had no fire in my room, and after running about all day over streets paved with little square blocks of stone, which it is very fatiguing to walk over, I came home fairly tired, and went to bed soon after nine o’clock. Except calling on M. Delessert, for whom I had a letter and a small parcel from Hooker, and whom I did not find at home, I spent the whole day in looking about the town, seeing sights, etc. My first call was at the Louvre, a large and splendid palace, where I spent an hour or two in the vast gallery of paintings, which fill a very large salon and a long gallery, I suppose five hundred or six hundred feet long, connecting the Louvre with the palace of the Tuileries....

To-day I have been wholly occupied at the Jardin des Plantes. Fortunately for me Jussieu speaks a little English, so I can get on with him pretty well. But you would have been amused at the attempts which M. Decaisne and M. Gaudichaud[78] and myself made to understand each other. Still more amused would you have been to see how I managed to make a bargain with a bookseller for a few books I wished to purchase. I feel the want of French sadly, and have no time for study.

Thursday evening.--I have been again occupied the whole day at the Jardin des Plantes, and went at six o’clock to dine with Mr. Webb to meet M. Gay.[79] Webb had taken care to ask an English student also, who speaks French much better than he does English, who sat between Gay and myself and interpreted when it became necessary. But Gay speaks a little of what will pass for English, mixed here and there with French, so that I got on very well indeed.

Gaudichaud was also there, a very interesting man if one could talk with him. We were kept rather late, so that it is now past twelve, so I must bid you good-night.

Monday evening.... At three o’clock I went to the Institute. I found that the room was already crowded. I inquired for Jussieu and Brongniart, the only members I could think of that I knew, but they were not there and therefore I could not get in. After some time Jussieu came in. But it was then too late, so I lost the object for which I had given up half the day. Jussieu, however, took me into the library, which is worth seeing. I employed the remaining hour or so in purchasing some prints of remarkable buildings, etc., in Paris, and I was also tempted to buy a few engravings from some of the great masters. After dinner I went to Mr. Webb’s, where I looked at plants for a few hours. He gave me also some autographs of celebrated botanists, and a few old botanical books....

Friday evening, March 29.... The Garden of Plants was nearly on my way home; so I stopped there, worked for an hour (till five o’clock), went home (home, indeed!), took my dinner, found myself most thoroughly tired as well as hungry, having had no breakfast but a small roll of bread I obtained near the cemetery; had a fire kindled in my room, and commenced writing to you. Just now the little daughter of the concierge, a little girl of six or seven, who often waits upon me, has brought me a cup of coffee, which I have enjoyed greatly, and now feel much restored. French children are all pretty and graceful, and I am making the little girl’s acquaintance as fast as I can; for it is difficult for me to understand her (it seems odd to hear such a little thing speak French), and in answer to some of my attempts to speak French to her, she answers, “Je n’entends pas anglais, monsieur.”

What great lies the French newspapers tell! Yesterday morning the paper I was reading at my breakfast stated that one of the gardeners who had charge of the bears at the Jardin des Plantes descended into the inclosure for some purpose, and was seized by the bears, killed immediately, and almost eaten up before help was obtained. So when I arrived at the garden I of course spoke to Decaisne about it, who was greatly surprised, for it seems the story was entirely a fabrication.

I see I have at length filled this large sheet, so I must say adieu for the present, but hope to-morrow evening to begin another. Ever I remain,

Your attached, A. G....

TO MRS. TORREY.

Wednesday evening.... There is little danger of my being spoiled in Paris by being overpolished. In London one must take care to be always comme il faut. There I took pains to keep myself rather spruce, which I have continued here from the mere force of habit!!! But gentlemen in Paris dress anyhow; they don’t pay half the attention to the matter it receives in England; with the ladies it is perhaps different, but here I scarcely ever see ladies except in the streets or shops and restaurants! At the houses of botanists I have only seen Mme. Gay, a very plain and good-natured Swiss lady. As to parlez-vous-ing, it is not such an easy matter, I assure you. You would laugh most heartily to see me in the botanic gallery of the Jardin des Plantes, endeavoring to carry on a conversation with Gaudichaud or Decaisne; the former of whom can scarcely read English, and the latter can speak only a dozen words. I get out, with no little difficulty, a few sentences of such French as has not been heard since the days of King Pepin, I am sure; and when that fails me I write in English, which Decaisne can read, and make him write in French in return, or else for short sentences speak very slowly and distinctly. From my ignorance of the language I am obliged to take great pains when I wish to purchase anything from the shops; for it is customary to put on an additional price to English customers. Fortunately my complexion and the style of my countenance are so far French that before I speak I am generally taken for a native, and I sometimes manage to make purchases without saying a word beyond a monosyllable. So I have to be very careful to avoid being cheated; but I am every day acquiring more knowledge and experience.

I have been seized with a mania for collecting prints on a small scale, and shall send home some very good ones,--to adorn my parlor and study at Michigan, of course! There are astonishing quantities to be found here. I am endeavoring to get all the portraits of botanists I can, and from this I have been led to pick up ancient ones, which show the early state of the art or old-fashioned costumes, etc., and also a few choice engravings from the old masters; but most of these I can obtain better in Italy or Germany. Tell Dr. Torrey not to be alarmed, for I shall not spend much money upon them.

As a general thing Paris is not very beautiful. But there are some magnificent sights, I assure you. At odds and ends of time I have already seen most of the ordinary sights which attract the attention of travelers, but must leave all account of them for the journal from Paris, which so far is addressed to the girls, though I fear it will scarcely interest them or any one else....

Decaisne has given me separate copies of his papers. He is now publishing a most splendid (botanically speaking) memoir upon the order Lardizabaleæ, in which I see he has found out some things which have been known to Brown only, for a long time. He will give us copies, I dare say. He is one of the best botanists here. I like Gaudichaud also very much....

I have just finished the examination of Michaux’s herbarium, which has proved worth looking over. I shall write the doctor more particularly, indeed have already begun a letter for him. Mr. Webb showed me last evening a letter from Hooker, which contains a good deal of botanical intelligence for himself and me. The British Antarctic expedition, he says, is to sail positively in August, and Joseph is to go. I wonder if they will be two years or so in getting off!...

TO THE MISSES TORREY.

PARIS, April 1, 1889, Monday evening.

MY DEAR GIRLS,--It is rather late, and I have no fire in my room, to which I have just now returned, but it is nearly comfortable without one, and so we will have a few words together before I sleep. My last and long sheet was closed, I think, on Friday evening. On Saturday my morning was spent as usual at the Jardin des Plantes; returning from whence I looked along the shops and so on to the Pont du Louvre, which I crossed; passed through the Palais Royal at the most busy season, when it is all lighted up splendidly, and dined at the Restaurant Colbert at half past seven. I am patiently exploring (I should say eating) my way through the mazes of French cookery, and am trying to select from the complicated bill of fare the more peculiar and national dishes, some of which are excellent, others so-so, or very poor....

To-day I have been again at the Garden, working as hard as possible, since I have so little time remaining. I dined at half past six at one of the famous restaurants, just to see how it was managed, and returning spent the early part of the evening with Mr. Webb, who lives near me.

On my way from the Garden, I stopped at another church. I believe the only remaining one of large size and much interest which I had not already seen.... It is called St. Severin, and is very old, having been built in the year 1210.

This is the first of April, and a fine spring day it has been, though the season is little more advanced than at New York. In two weeks I must be again upon the wing, and shall soon meet the summer. I want to see the south of France and sunny Italy. Adieu.

Tuesday evening, April 2.--I intended to have had time this evening to write several letters, but Decaisne has been with me, and did not leave until almost twelve, we had so much to talk about. I have been all the morning at the Garden; have worked very hard, indeed, and have nearly finished there. To-morrow is like to be a broken day, as I have made an engagement to see Dr. Montagne[80] and his microscope at twelve o’clock, which will take an hour or two out of the very best part of the day. I will try to turn the fragments of the day to some account. But now good-night.

“To each, to all, a fair good-night,
And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.”

Monday evening, April 8.... Saturday was a little more diversified. I went at eight o’clock in the morning to Professor Richard’s,[81] who lives near me, examined some plants of Michaux, then took my breakfast, went to the Garden for three or four hours, but returned at two o’clock to see the Chamber of Peers in session, M. Gay having provided me with a ticket of admittance, which procured me a very good seat. The members all wear a kind of court dress, the military peers swords, and those who have them display the insignia of the order of the Legion of Honor, and so forth. Several new peers were admitted, but before they were introduced, a number of peers made some remarks which could not have been very flattering to them, the creation of a new batch just at this time having given much dissatisfaction to the old ones. Among others, I heard a little speech from the famous Marshal Soult. Lord Brougham, who is now in Paris, was present. I recognized him across the room by his homely face, which he is in the habit of twitching and contorting incessantly, as if it pained him. He seemed to listen with much attention.

In the evening I paid a visit to Mr. Spach,[82] looked over plants and so forth until ten o’clock, returned shivering with cold, for the weather here is like March in New York. I am now sitting by a large fire, and yet I am shivering.

Tuesday evening, April 9.--In the morning went to hear Mirbel[83] lecture at the Sorbonne; he speaks so distinctly that I understood him tolerably well in general. The lecture-room is old and incommodious, rather better, to be sure, than the accommodation for the students of the university in the olden time, when they used to sit upon straw spread in the streets, but certainly not very fine. I went afterward to the Ecole de Médecine; heard the professor of anatomy for a few minutes; came away, saw two or three books that I wanted in a stall belonging to a shop, priced them; found the price much higher than I intended to give, so I named the price I would give; was amused with the perseverance of the very genteel madame, who reduced her price down to within seven francs of my offer, and then labored hard to make me take them. I advanced one franc, but utterly refused to give a sou more. “Vous n’êtes pas raisonnable,” says madame. “Je suis très raisonnable,” I replied, “mais votre prix n’est pas raisonnable.” So I left the shop, madame very coolly replacing the books on the shelf, with one eye turned toward me to see if I would relent. I had got some distance down the street when the boy came running after me, to say that I might have the books, “mais ils sont très bon marché.” So much for the way you are obliged to make bargains here. Went to the Garden, returned to dine here, paid a little visit to Mr. Webb, and must write the remainder of the evening.

Thursday evening, April 11.--My approaching departure makes it a very busy time for me. Let me recollect what I did yesterday. I went first to Baron Delessert’s; studied in his magnificent library until about one o’clock; then visited my banker, who is near, drew some money; then to a bookseller to arrange some matters about our “Flora” (which I failed to do); went to the Bibliothèque du Roi, where they have miles of books and acres of manuscripts, but as it was not a public day, I did not see half that I wished. I have made arrangements, however, for a future day. I went next to the post office, and took a place in the malle-post (which is very much quicker than the diligence) for Lyons, to go on Monday; so that the time of my departure is pretty well fixed. I next went to learn the time of the departure of the carriages for Sèvres and Versailles, which places I intend to visit to-morrow. Then I met Chevalier, the optician, by appointment, to consult about microscopes for an hour or two.... Called on M. Gay, with whom I found M. Boissier, a Swiss botanist whom I had often seen at the Garden, and also August St. Hilaire,[84] who returned but a few days since from Montpellier.

On reaching my room at half past ten, I found a note from Mr. Webb, saying that M. Spach had a message for me from Mirbel, and asking me to call if I had time; went immediately, but was too late; Webb had gone to bed. Returned, arranged accounts, etc., and went to bed myself.

To-day I have been, if possible, still more busy; at least I have accomplished more, though I made a bad beginning. The concierge promised to call me at eight, but I awoke myself at nine. Consequently it was past ten before I made my first call, which was upon Mr. Webb, to know when I was to see Mirbel. I called next upon Dr. Montagne to get a letter to the chief curator of the Bibliothèque du Roi, which should afford me the opportunity of seeing this, the largest library in the world, on a private day, namely, Monday, the only public day while I stay being Friday, when I have something else to do. _Eh bien._ I went next to the Louvre, and saw the other and best half of that most magnificent gallery, my passport giving me a ready admittance.... Suffice it to say I saw very much to admire--some things that I greatly admired--very much I did not allow myself time enough to become interested in, as well as many works of the old fellows that one likes to say he has seen.... Again in a cabriolet to the Ecole de Médecine; looked through the museum, which was to-day open to the public; saw for a moment the examination of a batch of candidates for a vacant professorship by concours; also the examination of students in the same way; then I visited the Musée Dupuytren,--a surgical museum of great extent; then went to the Ile St. Louis (opposite the Garden) to call on M. de St. Hilaire; not at home, so I saved a little time. Next to the Garden; looked on my way at the animals, the hyenas, lions, giraffe, monkeys, etc., besides a few large snakes; then called at Mirbel’s rooms, who took a great deal of trouble to show me most curious things in vegetable anatomy, but of this I will write to your good papa, who will care much more for it than you. After this I saw Decaisne for a few minutes at the botanical gallery; took one of the young lads with me; saw the mineralogical cabinet and that of fossils, which occupy a new and most beautifully arranged gallery. Here I saw many of the famous things I have heard so much of. In the vestibule to this gallery they are preparing a pedestal for a fine and large statue of Cuvier. I went next to Jussieu’s house, talked with him for a few minutes, and bid him good-by. On my way home stopped at Ballière’s, the bookseller, to transact some business; home; dined at half past seven; went to Webb’s, where I like to go of an evening, as I get a good cup of tea (no common thing in Paris), which, after such a day’s work, was very grateful, I assure you; remained until half past nine; returned here, took up my pen, and voici the result; and if I do not write plainly and neatly, it is no great wonder, and I trust you will excuse it, for I have other writing to do also this evening. Besides, I must rise at seven, as I expect another very busy day. On my return this evening, I found a polite note from Delessert[85] accompanying a magnificent present, no less than a copy of three volumes of the “Icones Selectæ.” An invitation for Saturday evening from M. and Mme. Delessert came with it. I am already engaged to dinner, at half past six, for the same day.

JOURNAL.

Saturday morning, half past seven.--[After an account of a visit to Versailles, he goes on:] Now bidding adieu to all this most interesting ground, I took up my march, on foot and alone, for St. Germain, distant about four miles. From the heights of Louveciennes I obtained the first view of the Seine and the lovely and broad valley through which it winds. Here I passed the remains of an elevated and striking aqueduct which conveyed water to a royal château which formerly stood in the neighborhood, and also, I believe, to the village of Marly, through which I passed a little farther on. Then descending rapidly, I reached again the banks of the Seine, the terrace of St. Germain being directly before me. It was now three o’clock. The steep hill was to be ascended by a winding road, and being somewhat leg-weary, I stopped a passing countryman’s cart; the lad who was driving readily gave me a seat by his side, and thus I rode into St. Germain. The lad was quite intelligent, and answered all my questions (when he understood me) very readily. He set me down close by the château. I gave him ten sous for his trouble, and we parted on good terms with each other. The château of St. Germain, which was a chief royal residence before Versailles was built, is more interesting to us as the place where the Stuarts kept their petty court so many years. It is now converted into a military penitentiary, and I was not anxious to examine the interior, as I am informed scarce any of the original apartments or furniture remain. The exterior is striking, quite of the old style, built of the same red bricks as the central portion of Versailles. What is most worth seeing here is the terrace, a beautiful park, extending for almost two miles along the brow of the high ridge, with the most beautiful view from it of the valley beneath and before you, the hills that bound your view, and the numerous villages scattered here and there. A finer situation cannot be imagined. The Seine, after passing Paris, makes a bold, double turn. The view extends quite to Paris (fifteen miles) though the city is nearly concealed from view, yet you see the grand Arc de l’Etoile distinctly. In the summer it must be surpassingly beautiful. At four o’clock I descended the steep declivity to the commencement of the railroad, took a little refreshment; at twenty minutes past four we started in cars propelled by steam, and in an hour I was in Paris and taking my dinner at the Restaurant Colbert. A pretty good day’s work!

Saturday, went to dine at Mr. Webb’s; a little party,--a bachelors’ party, for Webb is single,--consisting of Dr. Montagne, M. Berthelot, M. and Mme. Ramon de la Sagra, M. Spach and his wife, and a young Spaniard whose name I do not recollect. Webb is quite a polyglot; he speaks French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Modern Greek, and I know not what besides his mother tongue. At half past nine I left, took a cabriolet for Delessert’s, where I had been invited to an evening party; found there several botanists and persons I knew. Delessert received me cordially, introduced me to Madame D., who I was rejoiced to find spoke English very well. The suite of rooms thrown open was very splendid, and communicating with the last was a pretty greenhouse, filled with vigorous plants, all in fine bloom; the whole, carpeted and lighted, presented a most inviting appearance. The brothers Delessert are said to be very rich, and I suppose can well afford such an expensive establishment. The party broke up at eleven. Besides tea, which is quite English, though the French are getting more into the custom of using it we had ices, etc., but nothing else. The whole affair was conducted without any parade and in quiet good taste....

Notabilia varia.--Ellimia, Nutt., was described a little before us by two authors under two different names: First by Cambessides in Jacquemont’s Travels, under the name of Oligomeris; second by Webb and Berthollet, “Histoire Naturelle des Iles Canaries,” under the name of Resedella; Webb has Jacquemont’s plant from the Himalaya and his own growing together; they are absolutely the same. I am to examine them soon, but have scarce a doubt they are even the same species as ours. Webb has promised me a specimen. It is also the Reseda glauca of Delile ex Egypto. It is curious that the plant should at the same time be described from almost every part of the world, and not less so that the three names hit upon should have all meant the same thing, namely, a reduced reseda.

I have just spent the evening with Gay. He is publishing Carices in “Annales des Sciences Naturelles:” has hit upon some of Boott’s notions; but not all. He is a laboriously minute observer, and will do pretty well, but like Boott inclines to make too many species. He insists upon describing the small form of C. Hitchcockiana from Dr. Sartwell and Kentucky as a distinct species, in which he may be right. He wished to name it after me, but I declined the honor, and have transferred it to Dr. Sartwell, the discoverer, whose name it is to bear....

Delessert received me very kindly when I called on him. I must call again soon, and consult especially his rich library. He showed me a list he had just ordered from New York; among which of course was our “Flora.” I should have offered him a copy, but now it is scarcely worth while.... I shall not see De Candolle here. Delessert does not expect him until May. I shall leave the books and parcels for him with Delessert, and make De Candolle take back to Geneva with him all my parcels that I do not wish to take with me to the south.

April 2, evening, or rather April 3, as it is past midnight.--I have worked to-day as hard as I could jump from ten to half past five o’clock at the herbarium général of the Museum de Paris, and have finished. Apart from Michaux’s plants, of which they have nearly a set distributed, they are wretchedly poor in North American species; almost none of Lamarck and Poiret. I except the plants given by LeConte, Torrey, etc., which are arranged but not incorporated. The present Gallery of Botany is exceedingly fine and spacious, and well planned. I have gone carefully through all Michaux’s herbarium (from your limited time you have made some bad slips in the Carices of Michaux, which Gay, I am sorry to say, has found out), noting all dubious matters to be settled by examination of Richard’s set. I have gone through De la Pylaie’s herbarium completely and carefully; I have examined the herbarium given by Humboldt,--not complete but said to be as large as Kunth’s own set or more so, and labeled by Kunth; I have looked at everything here which I thought could interest us, but some I found not, such as Cercocarpus; I have examined some other separate sets of the same kind. I am now ready to glance through Jussieu’s herbarium, which is said to contain many Lamarck and Poiret; to spend a little time in Richard’s, a few hours more for Desfontaines at Webb’s, and perhaps Berlandier’s[86] plants, though these are distributed through Webb’s immense collection; this I can do, however, in evenings. Then a morning or two at Delessert’s, which will be more occupied with examination of books than plants, will, I believe, finish. Webb has promised to give me some plants of Labilliardière, whose herbarium he bought, as he did Mercier’s, in which he got many of Nuttall’s plants. He has also a collection of Lady Dalhousie’s from North America, all Drummond’s, etc., etc.; so he is pretty rich in North American plants, but they are not all arranged yet. Webb has most generously presented me with a complete copy of L’Héritier’s Works (in sheets) except the “Cornus,” which I have this day bought of the Jew Meilhac, and for which I was obliged to give six francs. I shall have the whole bound in two large folio volumes: “Cornus” and “Sertum Anglicum” in one, “Stirpes Novæ” and “Geraniologia” in the other. I think thus far that the few copies of the “Flora” I have given away have turned to good account. I meant to go to Jussieu to-morrow, but Webb has made an appointment with me to see Dr. Montagne (muscologist, etc.) and his microscope, which is one of the latest and best of Chevalier, and will enable me to decide if I may venture upon one for Sullivant.

On Saturday Decaisne told me, almost by accident, that he was to do the Asclepiadeæ for De Candolle’s “Prodromus,” at the same time showing me a paper of his on the family that I was unacquainted with, much to his surprise, but he at once gave me a copy. You must know, that although I knew nothing scarcely of this family when I left you, and now know little as to general structure, yet I pride myself a little on my researches in extricating the synonymy of the species in London, in Herbarium Linnæus, Hort. Clift., Herbarium Gronovius, Banks, Walter and Pursh, and here of Michaux. Accordingly on Monday (yesterday) Decaisne and myself had a regular examination of all the species we could find here, and I furnished him with all my notes upon the synonymy, and left with him those I had with me from your herbarium, to be returned to London in September next. Decaisne has been with me also all this evening.

I find that very many of the pamphlets we have sent from time to time have miscarried, particularly the copies of my “Ceratophyllaceæ,” sent by Castilneaux, and, what is mortifying, Guillemin and Jussieu received copies, but Brongniart and Decaisne none. I have just sent my only remaining copy here (for you sent me none) to Brongniart,[87] with an explanation.

There is a second species of Podophyllum from Cashmere or Himalaya, P. Emodi, also collected by Jacquemont, from whose specimens Decaisne has given me a piece. What is most curious, it is sixandrous, and therefore comes into Berberideæ except in wanting the dehiscence of the anthers by valves (which Decaisne tells me is also the case in Nandina), and so Robert Brown’s views are confirmed. I should not wonder if the sly old chap had seen a specimen from Wallich when he appended the note to the “Congo Voyage” on Berberideæ.

Thursday evening, April 4.--Yesterday saw Dr. Montagne, the muscologist, and examined his microscope thoroughly, which is one of the latest and best of Charles Chevalier’s. To-day I spent the morning at Jussieu’s, looking up Lamarckian species, etc., in A. L. de Jussieu’s herbarium; was very successful in Hypericum, but have no time now to give you details. In the afternoon Webb, by appointment, met me at the Garden, and we went to see Mirbel,--a man well worth seeing, I assure you. Webb acted as interpreter, when it was necessary, for Mirbel speaks with such distinctness that knowing what he was about I could understand him pretty well.